


Undercover Blues

by ilsafausts (phoenix_cry)



Category: Mission: Impossible, Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Resolved Sexual Tension, Tropes, Undercover, Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 14:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15753504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix_cry/pseuds/ilsafausts
Summary: Ilsa and Ethan go undercover as a couple. Of course they're very convincing at it.





	Undercover Blues

**Author's Note:**

> A lovely anon on tumblr asked me: "[...] Anyway, can I suggest a prompt? Like an Ilsa/Ethan fic where they have to pretend to be a couple? Thanks!" 
> 
> This is what I came up with (after a bout of writer's block). Hope you enjoy! :)

The chill of the evening hit her naked legs, her dress only covering her to mid-thigh, as Ethan opened her car door for her, like a proper gentleman. Holding out his hand for her to take, she swung her legs over the ledge of the car, careful to not let too much show. Her high heels hit the concrete of the sidewalk with a soft click, and she grasped Ethan’s waiting hand with a warm smile. “Thank you, darling,” she said, as he helped her stand. They linked their hands together like they had never done anything else, while Ethan handed over the car’s key to the valet.

Together, they made their way up the elaborate stairs leading up to the mansion’s entrance, her emerald dress and his black suit contrasting beautifully against the red carpet beneath their feet.

“I don’t think I’ve told you yet,” Ethan whispered in her ear, just as they entered the festive foyer, already filled to the brim with finely dressed politicians, rich people, and people playing at being both. His lips brushed against the shell of her ear. “But you look absolutely stunning.” Ilsa allowed a smile to spread across her lips, if only to keep up appearances of the smitten fiancée. She could feel the heavy rock of her “engagement ring”, where it rested on her finger. Her hand suddenly felt hot in Ethan’s gentle grasp. Turning her body to brush against his arm, she let her gaze travel over him, blatant in her admiration of him. “Thank you, baby. You yourself look very dashing in your suit.” Her hand came up to pat his chest in a playful caress. “As well as out of it,” she added, a little smugly.

To everyone watching - and people were definitely watching their arrival - they looked like a smitten couple, with eyes only for each other. What nobody saw, however, were the knives stashed in a garter belt wrapped around Ilsa’s thigh, or the gun resting against the small of Ethan’s back. Or the comms hidden in their right ears.

“ _You guys are disgustingly serious about the flirting bit, aren’t you?_ ” Benji muttered in their ears and Ilsa’s smile widened. She hummed, low and raspy, part in answer to Benji’s rhetorical question, partly because she enjoyed watching Ethan’s eyes darken in response.

A waiter passed by them, with a tray full of champagne flutes and Ethan smoothly snatched two off it. “Here you go, love,” he said, handing one flute to her, his hand brushing against hers, before gently settling around her waist.

They made their way around the foyer and further into the sprawling mansion, subtly scanning the room, but keeping their eyes from lingering anywhere for too long.

“Which way, Benji,” Ethan mumbled into his flute, taking a sip of the expensive bubbly liquid.

“ _Go straight ahead, until you reach the staircase. First level up, corridor off to your left, third door to your right. As soon as you open the door, though, a silent alarm will go off. You’ll have ten seconds max, until the nearest guards will reach your position._ ”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Ethan replied, this time turning to speak directly into Ilsa’s hair. She giggled as if he had said something funny, playing her part perfectly, as usual. “Just keep the exits open.”

“ _Roger that_ ,” Benji acknowledged.

They slowly made their way towards the staircase, circling the room, making small talk with some other guests, blending in with the crowd.

One of the other guests, a sixty-something year old woman with a gorgeous updo accentuating her grey hair, was currently fawning over Ilsa’s engagement ring. She would have to remember to thank Brandt for getting a real stone, instead of a fake one Luther had insisted would be enough.

“Oh, honey, what a gorgeous ring! He must really love you, hm?” Ilsa’s new talkative friend was currently saying. She leaned in closer and faux-whispered, “I just hope for your sake he doesn’t have to make up with it for other shortcomings.”

Ilsa giggled, the sound fake to her own ears, while inwardly rolling her eyes. “Trust me, there’s nothing short about him, where it matters.”

Benji groaned in her ear, grossed out. She couldn’t really blame him.

The other woman laughed, high-pitched and grating. “Oh, good for you, honey. Good for you.”

Ilsa’s eyes sought out Ethan’s figure where he was mingling as well, a couple meters to her left. She saw a muscle in his jaw twitch and knew he had to suppress a laugh. “Excuse me,” Ilsa said to the other woman, “I’m eager to return to my fiancé, I’m sure you understand.” Adding a wink, Ilsa smiled conspiratorially, watching as the other woman nodded and grinned, as if she was in on a great secret.

Making her escape without seeming too obvious about it, she reached Ethan’s side a few seconds later. Slipping her hand into his once more, she pressed close to him and looked at him with a pout, the perfect trophy wife. “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but you promised me you would dance with me!” She made sure to make her accent even more pronounced than it usually was. All eyes switched to her, some more subtly in taking her in, some not even trying to hide their blatant gazes. If she hadn’t been long used to it, she probably would have had to try very hard not to kick their disgusting behinds. As it was, she ignored them, eyes only for her “fiancé”. Ethan’s grip on her hand tightened slightly, keeping himself in check from gouging some eyes out as well, it seemed.

“You’re absolutely right, sweetheart, I did.” Turning to the other men, he said, “Excuse me, gentlemen. This gorgeous creature requires my attention. Best not keep her waiting.”

They all laughed, sharing a look that read as “ _women, right?_ ” and once again Ilsa had to stop her eyes from rolling.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Ethan whispered against her hair, “Thanks for the safe.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, purely for appearances sake, Ilsa told herself. He led her to the dancefloor and they seamlessly stepped into a waltz, the classical music by the life-quartet stationed in a corner of the room flowing through them gently.

Subtly, Ethan maneuvered them across the dancefloor towards the stairs, and Ilsa selfishly enjoyed their dance as long as it lasted. He was a great dancer, after all.

All too soon, they had reached the stairs and Ethan stepped away. She felt strangely bereft as soon as he did, missing the warmth of his body immediately.

Hands once again clasped together, they slowly made their way up the stairs, smiling at and greeting anyone coming their way from the upper level balcony surrounding the room below. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, almost spanning the entire diameter of the room.

They slowly made their way around the balcony, in the direction of the corridor Benji had pointed out earlier. Having reached it, they stood and swayed to the music, arm in arm. “One guard to your seven o’clock. Four more down below, circling the room,” Ethan whispered in her ear, and Ilsa hummed in agreement. She then added, “One more to your six o’clock. Their eyes passed over us twice now. They didn’t make us, though.”

“Good. We’ll move in 12 seconds.” He had calculated their every move, just like he always did.

They stood there, swaying on the spot, mentally counting down.

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

They slipped into their desired corridor, ignoring the “Do not enter - private” sign, before the guards’ eyes could make another pass over them.

The empty corridor was shrouded in shadows, giving them the perfect cover for what they needed to do. Stopping before the third door on their right, they shared a look, formulating a silent plan. Ethan raised a questioning eyebrow at her, which Ilsa replied to with a nod and a small smile. Moving with her back towards the door, she leaned slightly against it and welcomed Ethan stepping in front of her, her arms coming up to lock behind his neck. His left hand settled against her hip, while his right gripped the universal key gadget Benji had provided him with.

“We’re opening the door in five,” he announced and Benji acknowledged with a short “ _Roger_ ” and “ _Good luck._ ”

On one, Ethan inserted the key and the door opened with a soft click. Ilsa propped the door open with her back, just a crack, while Ethan slipped the gadget back into his pocket. Then they waited.

Hearing urgent footsteps heading towards their location seconds later, they shared another look, before Ilsa tugged his head closer, pressing her lips to his in a heated kiss. He stepped closer still, bridging the last remaining distance between their bodies, and opened his mouth beneath hers. Her tongue snuck out to seek out his before her mind could even consciously register what she was doing. Ethan sighed happily and let his hand wander from her hip and down her leg, caressing the soft skin that was revealed by her short dress. Ilsa hiked up her leg and wrapped it around his own, welcoming his warm caress. His hips pressed against hers and Ilsa gasped. 

A throat clearing to their left made them break away slightly, blinking innocently. The two guards who had been patrolling the upper level looked at them, slightly embarrassed, an apologetic grin resting on their lips.

“You, uh, you bumped against the door there,” the younger of the two said, stammering slightly and trying to avert his eyes from Ilsa’s leg where it was still wrapped around her partner’s hip. Ethan hadn’t bothered to remove his hand from where it rested underneath the hem of her dress, grasping her upper thigh. “If you could, uh, resume this somewhere else, that would be fantastic.”

“Oh! Yeah, sure! Sorry! We’ll move this somewhere else.” Ethan said, sounding honestly apologetic, but didn’t move.

The guards raised their eyebrows, waiting.

Ethan grinned, embarrassed. “If you could give us some privacy, though, I’d appreciate that a lot. This is a little embarrassing to admit, but moving is a little hard for me right now, you get me?”

The guards laughed in understanding at Ethan’s “plight”. “Dude, can’t say I blame ya! Gorgeous lady you’ve got there,” the younger one said, as if Ilsa wasn’t right there. He couldn’t have been older than twentyfour. “We’ll check back in five minutes, you better be gone by then!” He said with a wink.

“Appreciate it, guys,” Ethan replied, nodding gratefully.

Ilsa and Ethan waited a couple of heartbeats after the guards had vanished, before they disentangled themselves and fully opened the door. Stepping into the dark room, they stuck a card between the door and the frame, preventing it from fully falling shut behind them.

“We’re in, Benji,” Ilsa whispered as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, the only source of illumination being the flickering screensaver of a computer on the table nearby.

“ _Did you really just make out to fool these guys and did that actually work?_ ” Benji said, sounding incredulous.

“Men are easy, Benji. That trick always works.”

“ _Thanks...I’ll try and remember that._ ”

“What do they even teach you in spy school?” Ilsa teased and began to scan the room for the safe.

Benji grumbled something in reply.

“What was that?”

“ _I said the safe you’re looking for is hidden behind a Van Gogh._ ”

“Of course it is,” Ethan and Ilsa said in unison, their eyes locking on the Van Gogh in question.

Not wasting time in getting to work, they had the safe unlocked in short order, and all the needed files copied (incriminating evidence of several politicians working for the local mob), wirelessly uploaded to Benji’s computer in the van, waiting for them further up the street.

Putting everything back the way they had found it, they checked if the coast was clear before slipping back out into the darkened corridor, letting the door click shut behind them.

Ilsa checked her watch. Three minutes, twenty three seconds. Not bad.

Instead of turning left to rejoin the party, they headed right, further into the corridor.

“Heading towards the exit now, Benji,” Ilsa told him. A few seconds later, they came to a halt in front of the door at the end of the corridor, protected by a card reader. A moment later, it buzzed open.

“Thanks.”

“ _No problem. See you guys outside._ ”

They stepped outside onto a sort of fire escape and Ilsa shivered a little in the sudden chill. Grasping Ethan’s shoulder to steady herself, she slipped off her shoes, before she hurried down the stairs on bare feet, Ethan following close behind her.

Reaching the foot of a stairs, which led into a sprawling garden, they dodged to the left and headed for the iron gates protecting the estate from unwanted visitors. Once again, the gates buzzed open, just as they reached them.

They cleared the fence and headed down the dark street, once again arm in arm, the picture perfect couple. Two blocks from the estate, the van started up, and headed into a side street off the main road. Ilsa and Ethan followed.

Two minutes later, they climbed into the back of the van and were off, another mission accomplished.

“This felt way too easy, didn’t it?” Benji greeted them, sounding nervous.

“Can’t just one mission go easy for once?” Luther said from the front seat, being the designated driver this time around.

“When has it ever gone easy for us, really, Luther.”

“That’s what I’m saying! I think it’s time for us to catch a break, don’t you?”

“Well, it’s not like I would _mind_ catching a break.” Benji grumbled. “I’m just saying, it seemed too easy.”

“That’s what you think, Benji,” Ilsa said, letting her high heels drop to the floor. “You didn’t have to dodge mindless small talk with rich people all evening.”

“Ugh, you’re right, that was horrible. I’m sorry.”

“I found that quite entertaining, actually,” Luther laughed. “Especially the bit about Ethan’s bits.”

Ilsa snorted and shared a glance with Ethan, who just shook his head at his friend’s antics. A slightly evil smirk settled on Ilsa’s lips. “At least now I can verify that there’s nothing short about his bits,” she said nonchalantly.

Benji groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

Ethan laughed. “You don’t even know half of it, yet.”

“Yet?” Ilsa said and waggled her eyebrows.

“Well, I kinda feel like we left this pretty unfinished, don’t you?”

Ilsa hummed again. “Absolutely.”

“Please don’t jump each other’s bones in the back of my van!” Benji pleaded. “I’ll never be able to look at it the same way again!”

“Don’t worry, Benji,” Ethan chuckled. “We wouldn’t do that to your precious sensibilities. Or your van.”

“Beside, we’ve had enough of an audience for one day,” Ilsa added drily.

Beside her, Ethan nodded solemnly.

Benji groaned again.

 

*

 

Much later, after they had taken care of their post-mission briefing and dropped off their equipment at a designated pick-up spot, the team had settled down for an overnight in a hotel suite, two towns over from the mansion.

Luther and Benji had retired to one of the two bedrooms long ago, claiming the need to catch up on their beautysleep.

Ilsa and Ethan were still reclined on the couch in the main room, in the process of having a nightcap. Her legs were resting in his lap, his hands busy massaging her naked feet. Their drinks were resting on the coffee table, forgotten.

“I don’t know how you women do it, running around in those torture devices all day.”

“I walk in them. I take them off when it’s time to do some running, as you know.”

He smirked. “I remember. Still, I feel bad for your feet.”

“That’s why you’re taking such good care of them right now, and I appreciate it,” Ilsa said, sighing happily as his fingers dug into the soles of her feet. She moaned when he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Careful, or I’ll have you do that after every mission from now on.”

Closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the couch cushion, she heard him chuckle quietly. “You need a massage, you let me know. I’m your guy.”

“Do you do back massages as well?”

“I’ll massage every spot you want.”

She bit her lip to stop a smirk from spreading across her lips in reply to his innuendo. “The feet are a good start, but I think you can still improve your game a little.”

“Yeah? How do you propose I do that?”

Opening her eyes, she reached out and tugged him closer, having him come to a rest on top of her, comfortably settled between her legs. Without a word, she grasped his hand and placed it on her breast. “You can start right here,” she whispered.

He groaned, his hand twitching. “Yes, ma’am.”

Ilsa moaned as his mouth latched onto her throat and his hands began their work. He really was talented in anything he did, Ilsa thought, before her brain stopped thinking altogether.

 

*

 

Much, _much_ later, shortly before dawn, Ilsa and Ethan lay on their bed, sheets tangled around their naked bodies. Ethan’s hand caressed her stomach from where he lay, spooned behind her, strong arms wrapped around her slim frame.

“This evening took a decidedly unexpected turn, in the best way possible,” he mumbled against the back of her neck.

“Mhh, was it, though? Unexpected?” Ilsa asked, and turned around in his arms to face him.

Ethan thought about it for a moment, his lips twitching. “No, it wasn’t.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she agreed, and pressed another lingering kiss to his lips.

It had indeed been a long time coming, which was more than enough reason to play catch-up, Ilsa decided, and pushed him onto his back. Settling atop of him, they did just that.

 

~fin

 


End file.
